Perfection
by xXCarlaLouiseXx
Summary: Sometimes it's better to wait than say something without meaning it. Style one-shot.


**A/N: I know I haven't updated any of my older multichaps in a while, but I was going through some really tough times earlier this year and I wanted to wait until I got better to pick up with them again so that I didn't end up ruining some good stories. Anyways, things have improved now so I have started writing the updates. Deceived and I'm Nothing Special should be up next week hopefully, and I am going to start with Baby Doll soon, but in the mean time here's a Style one shot.**

**I do not own South Park.**

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I watch as raindrops roll along the outside of Stan's bedroom window, like millions of tiny crystals, shimmering as the catch the light from a streetlamp nearby. As I take in this simple yet stunning sight I think to myself how perfect something can be if you take the time to really look at it.

Like my current situation. Right here and now, everything feels perfect.

I'm currently resting my head against Stan's chest, lazily tracing patterns on his shirt as he runs his fingers through my hair. We've been together for a few weeks now, and I've never been happier.

But nothing's ever completely perfect. I have a problem, no matter how many times he tells me he loves me, I can't say it back. It's not that I don't like him because I do, a LOT. It's just that those words are special, they mean so much, and I just don't want to say them before I'm ready. I afraid to take that leap, I'm so scared that he won't be there to catch me.

I continue to run my fingertip along his chest, almost blushing at the feel of his toned body. I can hear the clock on his bedside table ticking away, seconds turning into hours as they pass us by. His hand moves away from my hair so that he can wrap his arm around my waist and pull me closer. I find myself involuntarily smiling against him as my cheek rests against the soft, warm fabric of his shirt. I inhale his familiar and comforting scent, my senses surrounded by nothing but Stan as the world drifts idolly by, leaving us forgotten, in our own little space where nothing else can reach us.

Right now, right now I feel safe, like nothing can ever hurt me.

My smile only grows as I nuzzle against him, trying to get as close as I possibly can. I can hear his heartbeat now, a slow and steady rhythm, which drowns out any and all negative thoughs I might have had. My head rises and falls with his chest as he takes each breath. I know with all of my heart that it's going to be agonisingly painfull when this moment comes to its inevitable end, but one content sigh from him destroys this realisation in about two seconds flat.

Then I feel a quick, ghost of a kiss against my forehead, and all of the calm, happy feelings are gone as the moment takes a new and serious turn.

A blush ignites in my cheeks as my heart begins to pound against my chest. Stan's chest stops moving and I feel his muscles tense, as if he's afraid that one movement from him will cause my departure. The comfortable silence soon becomes awkward as we remain frozen in place, the thundering of our heartbeats saying everything that we can't.

I force myself to look up, meeting his serious and slightly nervous gaze. That's when I look and I mean really look at him, taking in features I had only breifly glanced at before. Moonlight pours in through the window, illuminating his face in beautiful pools of silver. I notice things that I had never noticed before. Like the way his eyes aren't completely blue, there are small, almost non-existant flecks of brown around the centre. I see every little stray, midnight black strand of hair. I realize that he has a small scar just above his right eyebrow from when he had chicken pocks. Finally my eyes find his mouth, and I notice that one corner is slightly turned up, giving him an almost invisible, lopsided smile.

I wouldn't change any of it. He really is perfect and beautiful, and it's like I'm seeing him -really seeing him- for the first time. This is what causes me to inch closer cautiously, taking a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. He still doesn't move, still terrified of scaring me away. When we're almost nose to nose he reaches up, brushing some hair out of my face, an encouraging yet anxious smile on his lips.

That perfect and nearly vulnerable smile is enough to push me into making my final move tentatively and slightly clumsily pressing my lips against his. My heart races as my eyelids flutter shut, both of us melting into the kiss. My stomach is doing flips and my head is swimming with dizzyness as I try to process what's going on. Now I know that everything the others said about kissing is an understatement because no words could ever describe how it feels, how perferctly we fit together, how right it all is.

We pull away after a few seconds blushing profusely and breathing erractically. I move back to my original position with my head against his chest. Although now my thin arms are wrapped tightly around his waist as if I'm afraid someone's going to steal him away if I don't hold on tight enough. He does the same, pulling me as close as physically possible. His lips find my forehead again, though this time they linger there comfortably.

"I love you," he whispers against my skin.

I pull away to look at him. Everything about this moment just feels right, his strong, safe arms, our steady and syncronised heartbeats, the hopefull look in his eyes. As I lower my head back against his chest again, nuzzling into the warm, soft material, I find myself saying those words that just couldn't seem to escape my lips before. "I love you too," I breathe out. It's barely a whisper and as soon as I've said it my stomach drops.

However, before I can panic I feel his grip on me tighten even more if that's possible without him crushing me. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he whispers, sending shivers down my spine.

And I'm happier than I could ever describe because when I look back I'll know that I made the right descision by waiting.

This moment was absolutely perfect.


End file.
